


a moth to a light

by hertorpor



Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: Action, Angst, Other, Romance, Slow Build, Some Poetic Prose, prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 22:50:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2405774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hertorpor/pseuds/hertorpor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zada, an Awoken female, has been dead for a very long time. With her past far behind her and her experience lost among the debris, she embarks on a journey to find her purpose and understand what the world has become. Success is more than likely not on the platter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a moth to a light

**Author's Note:**

> This is my swing at a fanfiction for the destiny fandom! It will eventually get romantic if people want this to continue. PLEASE, leave your comments and kudos if you like it, otherwise I might not continue the story. Tell me the name, race, a brief summary of your character, and class of your Guardian if you want him/her/it/them in my story!

The Awoken clustered at the ends of space, clinging to the trills of the solar system. They surged away from the destruction and horror that was transpiring all around Earth. Narrowly escaping the tide of death, the Awoken thrived in their corner, evolving into intrinsically different being than the rest of the humans.  A fragment of darkness incubates within each of them; foretold in their pallid skin and eyes. Zada was not a black sheep. Among her people, she was regarded as a typical, underwhelming woman. She had no plans of departing the Reef.

But when she was faced with the choice to embark on a mission towards Earth, she spun on her heel and turned her back on everything she had. Her title, family, friends, any chance at romance. It all settled among the accumulating rubble. She emerged a Guardian. For some reason, this label didn’t sit well with her, even as it had been her choice. Being referred to as a Guardian in the streets of the cities and being respected as if she had done something so tremendous, it was a foreign and a borderline unwelcome feeling to her. She got used to it, with time.

When she fell in love with another Guardian, she fell hard. Plummeted. The wax melted and she drowned in a sea of repressed feelings. Her infatuation spanned beyond just simple puppy love, and soon she became obsessed with him. Her mind constantly was occupied, on the battlefield and off. Awkward and inexperienced, Zada had no idea how to court anyone, let alone someone who may be plagued by xenophobia towards her race. Some humans held prejudice against Awoken, even some Exos followed suit. But things ended up going pleasantly when she expressed these feelings.

However, too reckless and young to realize that her priorities were severely disordered, she began to focus more and more upon him rather than how well she was doing out on the field. Getting caught in crossfire on more than one occasion was not enough to stir her.

When her darling had been fatally marred in combat, she hadn’t simply left him behind. With the concept that maybe some omnipotent being would recognize her desperation, she lunged into the thick shelling. It was a gesture that ended her life. No matter how hard she screamed, how much she swiveled her hips to avoid the silvery darts of bullets, how much she attempted to feign wellness despite the large clip the blow had taken out of her side, she could not conjure enough light to propel herself towards the convulsing body of her companion. He died in a hiss of red hot pain, trying to communicate but unable through the thicket of blood that had filled most of his orifices. She died with her arm outstretched, ignoring the blaring sound of her ghost’s chatter, a feeble attempt at saving him or, at the very least, his ghost.

It was far too late.

 

-

“Guardian…”

The voice was strangely soothing. She stirred, her fingers going lax against her sides as she attempted to use her limbs. An absence of noise created a dull drone in her ears. She desperately clung to the final vibrations of unconsciousness. Her eyelids pulsated at the long-forgotten sensation of sight was forced upon her.

 “…Guardian?”

 She shook her head. Everything was in vertigo. Her eyes cracked open, and light splintered into her vision. Fuzzy was the adjective she’d use to describe the all-encompassing feeling.

 “Eyes up, Guardian!”

 Zada languidly rose her head, seeking the area the voice was coming from. Her eyes worked their way open. The overwhelming contrast and color prevented her from being fully coherent, only letting her mouth fall into an ‘o’ shape as her eyebrows furrowed and creased her forehead.

 “It worked…You’re alive!”

The voice communicated elation the best it could, a flanger implemented in his robotic tone significantly hindering its convincingness. She squinted, making out the outline of the familiar shape of… a Ghost! She winced as she attempted to peel her eyelids off of her eyes, but only being met with watering eyes. A blanched palette surrounded her, the deadness of Earth clearly accentuated by the various rusty cars, parked for eternity on the barren terrain. Some of them look as if their owners only left to get gas, for they were untouched aside from the copious amounts of rust.  Zada’s mind might as well have been fried. Unable to keep her eyes on one object, she let them flit as her eyes began to translate details instead of just vague shapes and colors.

 “You don’t know how long I’ve been looking for you.”

 The Ghost flared its metal mandibles, as if to sputter like a human. The influence of humanity was clear – emotion, as false as it truly was, really bled into the robots actions.

“I’m a Ghost. Actually, now I’m your Ghost.”

 Zada tried to find her voice, inquire about her old Ghost, but any resemblance of speech was lost on her throat that felt like sand.

 “And you… Well, you’ve been dead a long time.”

She looks down, flexing her fingers, getting the kinks and fuzziness out of the remainder of her previously dormant body. Everything felt so new. She feared that if she were to take a step, she would stumble and fall onto the ground, so she continued to work through the tightness of her joints as it spoke. The words did not fully process. Hearing, in addition to seeing, was a strain. She did hear, but did not understand.

 “So, you’re going to see a lot of things you won’t understand.”

 The words were beginning to fall into their proper place, causing her eyes to snap open painfully. Dead? She parted her lips, as if to speak. A faint snarl ricocheted through the landscape, which made the Ghost almost worriedly pirouette. Her lips clamped down into a tight line. It continued.

 “This is Fallen territory. We aren’t safe here.”

 It had turned to face her again. Its blinking threw her off, and how it almost had a personality also threw her off. She extended a hand, as if to touch it, but it began to flutter away, towards an unknown location as it continued to speak.

 “I have to get you to the City.”

Then it paused. As if mulling over its predicament. As if robots could comprehend things. Zada gaped at it momentarily. It ordered her to hold still. She did not understand until it vanished out of the air, leaving no trace of its presence. As if being a hallucination. She let out a heavy sigh, solitude soon washing over her, but cut short by the abrasive, masculine voice of her new Ghost.

 “Don’t worry.”

 Her shoulders tensed even more. It was surprisingly possible. Maybe her joints would give out and her arms would just pop out of their sockets. It seemed to be a viable option at this point. 

“I’m still with you.”

 For some reason, these words brought back a strange, sentimental feeling. It festered in her chest for an infinitesimal second, and then dissipated. A sharp intake of breath followed.

 “We need to move, fast.”

She looked ahead. The soft to and fro of the long dead grass ahead served as a visual reminder of the state of Earth. She braced herself for more demands from her pushy little Ghost.

 “We won’t survive long out in the open like this. Let’s get inside the Wall.”

 Zada took a moment to scan her surroundings, placing her hand against one of the dilapidated sides of a car. Sensation quaked through her fingertips, shooting confusing messages to her brain. A glassiness, as if she viewed the world through the scope of a snow globe, cloaked the world as she pushed forward. She felt vulnerable. Cold. Something was unnerving about her position and she couldn’t quite remember her past purpose. Slowly, she removed her hand from the car. Her feet willed her to traverse this wasteland, and she wasn’t too opposed to this notion. She didn’t want her Ghost barking in her ear about continuing faster, so she let her pace quicken.

 Her joints felt so weak and underused, but even as they screamed in protest at her rapid movements she pressed on.

 “I didn’t bring you back for you just to die again, we have to—“

 Zada huffed loudly, drowning out the sound of her Ghost. Obnoxious thing. She knew that it would be butting into her actions at all times, but this shouldn’t entail a degree of sassiness. Her Ghost had personality. She didn’t know if she liked that or not. Despite her soft objection, she began to sprint towards her destination, among the shanty-like makeshift walls and desecrated concrete infrastructures.

 Pipes lined the interior of the building. She stumbled up the stairs, tracing the mazes of long-broken insulation vents and watering systems. She mused about who had used them, her Awoken nature hindering her progression. Her pace soon became just a bit beyond a jog as she pondered this, imagining the water coursing through each individual line. When her fingers graced along the dusty remains of the eroded pipes, she felt another heavy sigh be drawn from her lungs. Melancholy. The word popped into her head. She had to keep moving. The corpses of a thousand people begged her to continue.

 

-

Blood incarcerates the throat of the Fallen Dreg she had inserted her light into. The alien sputters, slackening against the ground. She can see the life being snuffed out from its body, it wanes so slowly, and she feels raw emotion. It constricts her ribs. She does not know her purpose in the grand scheme of things. The skeletal remains of her empathy makes her stop before the writhing Dreg. It deserves honor. She shakily aims her weapon, inexperienced, combatting emotions ranging from anger to immense pain. She wants to apologize. It widens its four eyes, squirming against the powerful force of death itself.

 

And she fires.

 Her expression contorts.

 “You will get used to it,” her Ghost chimes.

         _She doesn’t believe it._


End file.
